6267 days‒that's how many days I have to choose from. How could I pick just one as the most memorable day of my life? The day I got my license, the day my family got lost in Tennessee, the day I found out school was canceled due to coronavirus.  

I don’t remember those days. I remember the moments. I don’t remember the day I got my license. I remember driving to Kwik-Trip to fill my car with gas first thing in the morning. I don’t remember the day I got lost in Tennessee, I remember the dirt road we were supposed to follow and the nice woman who pointed us back toward civilization. I don’t remember the day I found out school was canceled. I remember sitting in the back row of freshman study hall and hearing the supervisors talking about it. 

None of these times in my life have a date attached to them. When I rack my brain I can probably remember that school was canceled on March 13, 2020 or that I got my license on April 11, 2021, but in reality, those dates don’t matter to me. The moment, the people, the experience‒those are what I remember and what matters most. The moments that I remember are as valuable as gold.

This is how I have always thought and I hope how I continue to think. By focusing more on the moment and living in it, I think I enjoy it more. I certainly remember it better than times where I was focused and taking a picture of the moment or not just experiencing it for myself. When my family took a trip to South Dakota, we visited the badlands, and another national park known for its prominent wildlife. There were many great views, and I even still use a picture of the badlands that I took as my phone background. However, I don't remember the parts of the trip where I was taking photos as well as the parts where I was just enjoying it. While we were rolling through the wildlife park, our car and the one carrying my cousins was surrounded by a herd of buffalo. It was a surreal experience to see these massive animals just inches away from the window. While I took some pictures, I remember most vividly my mom frantically telling us to roll up the windows, just in time for me to turn around and see one of my cousins hanging halfway out of the car trying to get as close as she could to the buffalo, and another one of my cousins standing up out of the sunroof. I have a similar type of memory about the badlands. That is that I don’t remember the pictures I took too well. But what I do remember is running up and down the small peaks with my sister and my cousin, then chasing after a mountain goat as it expertly showed us how to scale the miniature mountains.

For me, life is more about living in the moment, rather than capturing the moment. Not only do I still remember the event, I remember them more vividly and clearly than any event I have taken a picture of, that is for sure. And with that, I still can’t choose one of the 6267 days to be the most memorable, but I can choose many moments in my life that are certainly just as memorable.